Anna the Songbird
by Kessie-Louise
Summary: The beginning years were rough as Booker raised Anna. But when they found out she could sing, he signed her up for as many vaudeville acts he could afford at a time. Little did he know the songs she 'made up' were actually written several years in the future... WIP, R&R
1. The Opening

"_I've written a letter to Daddy,_

_His address is heaven above..._

_I've written 'Dear Daddy we miss you,_

_and wish you were with us to love!'_

_. . ._

_Instead of a stamp I put kisses,_

_The postman said that's best to do._

_I've written a letter to Daddy saying,_

_'I love you!'"_

Booker leaned an ear on his daughter's door. She was only six years old, but she had an amazing voice. With what little contact he had, Booker had set her up for a small singing performance at a small theater in town. It was only going to be in front of someone who would decide whether little Anna would go on stage or not, and he would watch as well, to make sure nothing screwy went on. He loved his daughter after all.

"Is gonna be scary Papa?" Anna asked him as they walked to the theater.

"A little." Booker told her, not quite sure himself as seeing he had never been theater before. "Just be yourself, what could go wrong?"

Stage fright. That's what went wrong.

Well, at least that's what it appeared was wrong with her when she finally got on stage. Anna's eyes shifted to something on the opposite end of the room and she stood in the center of the stage for a long time. Booker nervously looked over at the man that would determine whether she could go on stage or not. This man in particular had balding gray hair and a rather grumpy expression on his face. He also had a book in his hand, and a pencil in another hand. The grumpy man was about to write something in his book, but little Anna's voiced piped up loud enough so the two men could hear her.

"_Like a prima... ballerina;_

_I tip toe, tip toe around you constantly..._

_I hear the... water running;_

_Will it wash you tears or leak through the ceiling?_

_One little foot in front of the other,_

_Don't you know I'm afraid of thunder?"_

Booker frowned when he heard Anna sing. It wasn't horrible, quite naturally it was low and gentle, while being slightly scared and haunting. It was reminding him of the past six years. They haven't been easy. There had been nights when Booker absolutely left the building altogether in fear of hurting little Anna. And now here she was, singing a song he had never heard before that nearly described his more horrible days...

"_When you're furious..._

_When you start to freeze..._

_When you can't be touched..._

_I feel everything!_

_And when you despair..._

_When you cannot breathe..._

_When you wouldn't dare..._

_I feel everything!"_

In curiosity, Booker looked over at the grumpy man. He didn't look so grumpy now, in fact, he looked as if he was about to cry. Regardless though, the grumpy man stopped Anna abruptly as she started to sing the second verse.

"I have heard enough!" the man thundered, standing up in his seat. Little Anna looked at her father in confusion. In return, Booker gave a rather reassuring look, although he wasn't sure himself what was going. The grumpy man then turned to Booker.

"Mr. DeWitt, your daughter," the grumpy man started, Anna on stage cringed, not that Booker could blame her, "Is a very talented singer. We can start talking of a contract soon, if you wish, and then your daughter can be seen in every theater from here to Houston."

Booker gave an expression of shock of surprise as Anna navigated herself off of the stage and to her father's side. He looked at his daughter.

"What do you think Anna?" Booker as her, getting down to her height. "Would you like to go on a big stage like that a lot more often?"

Anna curiously looked at the stage then back at her father.

"Do I have to go on the stage on Sundays? God might be mad if I sing on stage instead of at church." she asked him.

"Hun, we have laws for that, don't you worry." the grumpy man told her. "You and your papa will be given a list of engagements that you can choose. No one is gonna force you to go on a day you don't want. Until you're at age, of course, but we still have a while to go until that."

Anna nodded her head, then looked back at her father.

"I like the stage." she decided. "There was even a lady that told me just what to sing and everything."

The grumpy man laughed at her.

"What a powerful imagination!" he laughed. Booker, however, wasn't so sure, but he smiled despite himself.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Credits;<strong>

**'I've Written a Letter to Daddy' by Bette Davis from 'What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?' (c) Warner Brothers Pictures 1962**

**'I Feel Everything' by Idina Menzel from 'I Stand' (c) Warner Brothers Records 2008**


	2. LIMITED ENGAGEMENT

Nine year old Anna looked back on the theater marquee and smiled. 'Anna DeWitt and Tony Jackson' was listed under the 'LIMITED ENGAGEMENT' portion on the left side of the marquee. She had met Mr. Jackson a few days ago when her manager introduced him to her. Mr. Jackson had been very nice, for a black man that is. Although at nine years old, Anna didn't think she was as prejudiced as some others she knew, but she did feel uncomfortable around him for awhile.

Anna had amazed him though, after being asked what she felt they should do for the act. She knew all the notes for the song, but did not know how to play them. When they started to practice, she realized that she had been scaring him.

"I'm sorry," Mr. Jackson said after awhile, "But I must know, were did you learn this song?"

"I heard it in a dream." Anna told him simply. "Except it wasn't exactly like a dream because I was awake. There was a hole in the wall, and I listened to it. Next thing I knew, I knew the whole song and I liked it so much I wanted to sing it with you."

Mr. Jackson looked at Anna, not quite sure what to think of her.

"A hole in the wall, eh?" he asked her, nervously letting his hands play a little ragtime tune on the piano. Anna watched his fingers as she nodded.

"Yep." she agreed, not sounding as enthusiastic as she wanted to. Deep down, she realized that she was... disappointed that Mr. Jackson didn't believe her. She had just started to warm up to him too.

"So... uh..." Mr. Jackson started to say, slowly changing the subject, "How's your pop doin'?"

Anna's face looked at Mr. Jackson with an expression of near hatred and lack of respect. If she hadn't scared him before, she certainly did now.

"He's not coming tonight." Anna told him darkly. "He lost a lot of money, and he is trying to get it back because he believed he was cheated out of it."

"Was he?" Mr. Jackson asked with curiousity.

"No." Anna told the black man with more bitterness in her voice. "The Lord can forgive you of your sins, but He won't help take them away unless you make an effort to get rid of them too."

Mr. Jackson looked at Anna with an unreadable expression, his figners playing over another ragtime tune. Anna recognized the tune. It was going to make him famous some day.

"How about we practice now," Mr. Jackson finally said, "From the top now. Alright?"

Anna's face relaxed as she let out a sigh.

"Alright." she agreed.


End file.
